


The Last Belmont

by firewolfsg



Series: The Last Belmont [1]
Category: Castlevania: Symphony of the Night
Genre: Castration, M/M, Non Consensual, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewolfsg/pseuds/firewolfsg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could have happened, if Alucard had not succeeded in facing off Dracula after he freed Richter from Shaft's control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Belmont

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted August 2005)

"This is the last mistake you shall make, my son." The Count declared softly as his half blood son struggled to regain his feet. Even as he raised a hand to strike a last blow, Dracula could not stop the sorrow from rising in his heart for having to do this to his last reminder of his beloved Lisa. So focused was he on the Dhampir that he totally ignored the appearance of intruders on the scene. Later when he was given time to reflect on it, he could not say whether it was to his disappointment or relief that these interlopers had saved his son from certain death.

"Holy Cross!" The Count had screamed as a barrage of crosses rained upon him, driving him back and allowing two figures to race to Alucard's side.

Faintly, he could hear a familiar voice call to its smaller companion. "Maria? How is he?"

"Richter, he's in a bad way." The girl too, he seemed to recall. Her voice was familiar, though it sounded much older now.

Throwing off the effects of the attack, the Count howled as he turned to face the man; his Nemesis who had defeated him four years past. "Belmont!"

A hastily raised shield took the brunt of the fireballs sent the hunter's way. "Take him and get out of here, Maria." Dracula could feel his spirits lift to see the hunter uncoiled the Vampire Killer and hold it ready as he stood between him and his prey. "I'll hold him off as long as I can."

"Richter?" His son had gasped within the woman's arms as she strove to pull him to his feet. "No, you can't--"

"Go! We will meet again, Alucard." The Belmont's voice was strained but firm as his flaming whip lashed out making the Count duck. "Maria, take him out!"

Oh, yeesss. Dracula's eyes gleamed as he gathered his power to meet Richter Belmont in battle. It was past time for their rematch. Facing the man again though, the vampire could sense something very strange. Perhaps it was memories playing tricks on him, but he had remembered this Belmont being much more muscular four years ago. Perhaps the cut of his clothes concealed his physique? It was no matter to consider in battle though, and the Count promised himself that he would investigate this difference. Later...

@}&gt;;~'~

The Count looked upon his minion dispassionately as he proudly spoke of his achievements over the last four years of his slumber. "A year, you say?"

"Yes, my lord. You must admit his reputation was well earned."

"And this--method of breaking him, with a permanent lust spell..."

"Torture alone would never have tamed a Belmont." Shaft told him, showing his pride for his discovery and accomplishments.

"Indeed." He considered his subordinate's words thoughtfully. Certainly it was something he had never considered before. The idea to subvert the line of Belmonts was a sound one, but Dracula had never thought it to be a plan that would succeed.

Ever since he had manipulated Leon Belmont into killing his rival to pave the way for his ascent to power, Dracula had gained a very healthy respect for this family of Vampire Hunters. And this current Belmont, Richter, was no exception. He eyed his minion again before he raised an issue which had put a larger damper on the idea of further generations of Belmonts serving him.

"Given what you have done to him, Shaft, it rather-- discounts any-- reproductive ability..."

The magician shrugged. "Then can we not be pleased enough that you have in your hands the last Belmont? There will be no more, my lord. He produced but daughters with his wench."

"The last Belmont..." The sound of it was too appealing for him to stay angry over the loss of familial slavery.

"As for his recent actions against you, I--" Shaft gulped to draw the attention of the Count upon him again. "He will serve you well with a reminder, my Lord. They-- they are not lessons to be forgotten."

"You would dare say this even after his open defiance?" The Count looked at his trembling minion in amusement.

"But--But you, are here, my Lord." Shaft swallowed hard. "It was but a brief lapse when the Dhampir broke the spell..."

"A year in this castle, did you say?"

"Y--Yes, My Lord."

"During which time with the lust spell upon him, there were many who had a taste of him, did they not?"

"To have a Belmont helpless in our clutches... My Lord, could you blame them for not resisting the temptation?" Shaft looked at him hopefully.

"And you think I would be interested in the castle whore, why?" The Count's eyes narrowed dangerously at his minion.

Shaft cringed under the scrutiny. "Be--b--be--because he is a Belmont? Be--because he--he shows his spirit was not broken after all. And--and that he would still dare to defy you?"

Dracula smiled at his minion with gleaming fangs. "So now you would agree that you *did not* succeed in breaking the Belmont?"

"He served me well for over three months, my Lord, unquestioningly, and not on his back." Shaft pulled himself up to face his master bravely. "He did find his own feet among our ranks to become my second. He--he did break enough to serve me."

"And how would you suggest he serve us now?"

"In whatever capacity you desire him, my Lord."

"Tell me, Shaft, was it always rape?"

"He would have it no other way, my Lord. Even with his personal servants, the Belmont never willingly invited touch."

"Then he did not break."

"Would you care to see that corrected, my Lord? Perhaps, personally?

The Count stood and swept his cape about him. "Perhaps..."

@}&gt;;~'~

He stood at the door of his room for a long while savouring the sight before him. From appearances, the Belmont had tried to reach the glasses of wine that sat on the table in the centre of the room. He did not make it beyond getting off the bed and sat slumped beside the mattress, without even the strength to pull his robe more securely about his pale form.

Studying him now, the Count could see how the castration had affected the man. The formerly muscular body had melted away to the slim physique he now saw before him. By no means did it imply that the man could be considered weak, he reminded himself, but Richter Belmont certainly could not be said to have had the same power and strength he had commanded when they first met. Still he did have more tricks and spells at his disposal, Dracula thought sourly of the barrage of crosses that had rained upon him during their fight. However, the hunter's stamina had been considerably sapped, allowing the Vampire to prevail.

Entering the room, the Count retrieved a glass and brought it to the human. Richter glared at him though pained and exhausted eyes as the vampire placed the glass against his lips; though he acquiescent to allow the Count to help him drink, Richter's hand shakily took possession of the glass. The Belmont nearly finished the glass of wine before he lifted his head to mark his reluctance to continue. At that, the Count released his hold on hand and glass to sit back on his heels and study the man at this closer range. Richter had again rested his head on the mattress; his eyes no longer defiant but just tired, watching the Count look him over and waiting.

The vampire had to admit that he needed to commend his minions for the presentation they made of the hunter for his amusement. Richter's face had been lightly dusted with powder and his eyes lined with Kohl to bring out their sultry depths. His lips they had painted a deep wine red and with his mouth slightly open, they appeared to invite being taken and possessed. His nails had also been painted and shaped to make his hands look far more slender than they really were.

In contrast to the commanding figure he had presented at their first meeting, Richter Belmont made a pretty picture as he sat on the floor of his bedroom in utter vulnerability with his red robe half fallen over his back, to expose the rose tattoos painted there, and his long hair spread over his neck and the bedspread; the glass in his hand rested forgotten on floor, the bit of wine left in the glass having spilt over the carpet.

He made a pretty picture indeed. Coupled with the spell that pulled at his senses, the Count could understand why his minions had found the Belmont so irresistible. Looking upon him now, the tiny part within that could still recognise the name Maithus felt sorrow to see how low his one time friend's family had fallen.

Though reluctant to interrupt the moment, the Count had reached a hand over to touch the back of Richter's robe and pull it down to further expose his back. Richter made no move to prevent the action, instead turning his face into the mattress and, in a way, assisting the vampire in his view of his back. "So... for every defiance you showed, Shaft added another rose, did he? How many, dear Richter, did they paint on you?"

The man made no effort to respond. The Count found himself sucking in a deep breath in appreciation and surprise at the artistry that he had exposed to his view. The pale back was covered in roses from the small of Richter's back almost up to his shoulders. "Shaft did say you lived up to your legend."

The vampire found that he wanted to see more, surprising the human by suddenly lifting him off the floor and depositing him face down on the bed. Though he tensed, Richter did nothing to stop the Count from stripping away the robe to leave him nude.

Dracula sat beside the prone body and took his time to explore every delicately painted rose with a gentle finger. "Very creative... I confess, Richter, I would never have thought to break a Belmont in this fashion. Very much more pleasant and entertaining..."

"So now you would take your turn with the castle whore?" The Belmont's bitter words came so unexpectedly, the Count almost glossed over hearing it in his examination of the fascinating tattoos painted on the hunter's back.

The vampire didn't answer right away, instead moving his hands to the man's unadorned taut buttocks. He could feel the hunter tense even more as his hands reached to gently part the cheeks of his ass. "How many took you?"

"It would be easier to say how many did not." To the Count, the hunter's words were amusingly steady. "Not many refused an offer to fuck a Belmont."

From scarring that he could tell was recently healed tears, the Count verified Shaft's observation that Richter had never given in easily. "You always were a fighter, weren't you, Richter? How many healing potions did Shaft force down your throat to ensure you lived through your--entertainment?"

"Too many to count."

They fell silent after that with the Count releasing Richter's butt cheeks and sitting quietly beside him. It was a silence which was too long for the hunter to endure given his position of vulnerability.

"Aren't you going to get on with it?"

"Eager for me to have you for the first time, are you?"

The hunter clamped his mouth shut and refused to say anymore. Sighing exaggeratingly, the Count moved to the bedside table and retrieved from the drawers the convenient bottle of lubricant Shaft had thoughtfully provided. The vampire noted how Richter had started to painstakingly force himself to relax once he smelled the sweet fragrance of the lubricant. No doubt, over his year long captivity, the hunter had learned how to endure a rape with as little pain as his rapists allowed him. However, Dracula did not want a passive fuck toy.

Richter had grunted in surprise when he was flipped on his back. The vampire could see that the man was finding this unusual. It was easy for him to then guess that almost all of the rapists must have preferred the Belmont on his face for deeper penetration. The Count smiled at him as if in reassurance. "I want to see your surrender, Richter."

"When hell freezes over!" The fire of defiance still lit the hunter's eyes as he glared up at the vampire. "I held out for a year, there's nothing more that you can do to me that your minions haven't done before."

"No?" Dracula's eyes gleamed at the challenge. "I believe not."

The Count drank in Richter's shocked surprise when he kissed him. He practically raped the hunter's mouth in a deep possessing kiss the likes of which he had never given anyone before, not even to Lisa his greatest love. At first the Count had felt Richter try to fight the kiss and bite his tongue. But when the Count accepted the bit of pain and allowed their mouths to be flooded with his blood, Richter had panicked.

Being magnanimous, Dracula allowed the human to escape and spit most of the blood out. But he had reclaimed the man's lips and forced him to swallow at least a little more of his blood before the cut on his tongue healed and the wound disappeared.

It was known that a Vampire's saliva had aphrodisiac qualities to it which allowed a vampire to bite and hold a victim in a thrall of ecstasy and passion. But that was delivered directly to a human's blood stream. Little known among humans, vampire blood also had an aphrodisiac quality to it; something that his Lisa had appreciated when he encouraged her to bite him hard enough to bleed. This was a secret only shared among vampires and those who were turned. While Richter had not swallowed nearly enough blood to be at risk of turning, he had taken in a sufficient quantity for his body to begin to throb in growing sexual need.

"Getting comfortable?" The Count kissed and licked around the hunter's mouth to lap up every stray drop of blood. "You will be mine, Richter."

"N--nn--no."

Dracula could feel his fangs start to lengthen as he kissed along Richter's neck and allowed his mouth to approach his carotid artery. He could have allowed himself to bite and end it. To drain the Belmont of blood and put an end to the line of the family of vampire hunters that had plagued his existence since the times of Leon Belmont. However, he wanted more. Dracula was not about to let the last Belmont escape his ire so quickly and painlessly.

"S--Stop" The Count smiled to hear the desperation in the man's voice; the aphrodisiac was now singing in the hunter's blood and throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

"Why do you believe I will break off my assault anymore than my minions, Richter?" He smiled down at the squirming hunter. The Count could clearly see in his mind's eye how the Belmont had survived through the last year now.

Given their little toy, his minions had probably brutally assaulted the man, taking him as if he were a convenient hole upon which to spend their passions. None had tried to be gentle with him, or bothered to give him pleasure in turn. In all likelihood, none perhaps expected the Belmont to be able to feel arousal after the castration.

However, the Count knew better. He had met men who were made into eunuchs later in their lives and though their sex drive was very much reduced, they were still capable of sexual arousal and orgasm. The only true physical impairment that they suffered was the inability to impregnate woman. Clearly, Richter was also naïve of this fact as he appeared completely surprised by the arousal he was feeling.

The Count bent to take one of Richter's nipples between his teeth to tease and lavish some attention upon it with his tongue. He let his hand play with the other nipple while his free hand reached lower to grip and begin stroking the man's cock. Yes, from the desperate sounds he was making, the hunter had always been taken brutally without a care paid to his pleasure. The vampire was pleased. It made his seduction easier, because the man was all the more sensitive to touch. So used was Richter to pain that gentle caresses and teasing touches surprised him and were suddenly beyond his ability to handle.

Still, Dracula had to be careful how he went about it. Still weak and recovering from their earlier battle, Richter was in danger of fainting if the Vampire pushed him too quickly. For a moment, when he had taken the hunter in his mouth, Dracula had thought he had been too impatient. Richter had screamed and stiffened almost violently under him, then gone very still. Only faint gasping sounds assured him that the man was still conscious.

When the Count left Richter's cock to rise and reach for the open bottle of lubricant, the hunter nearly cried out for the bereavement of touch. But Richter had caught himself in time and grimly glared at the smirking vampire.

Knowing that he dared not allow the man too much time to regroup, Dracula quickly moved to the next stage of the Belmont's seduction. The hunter had tensed when the Count had lifted a leg and used fingers to spread Richter's ass cheeks and expose the pucker of his anus. But again the man had forced himself to relax and offered no resistance to the lubricant wet fingers seeking entry to stretch and prepare him for a much larger organ.

Finally recovering his breath and some composure, Richter had watched the Count suspiciously as he took his time to stretch and apparently feel around inside his anus. The Count knew that he had found the spot he was looking for at last when Richter threw his head back and gasped.

It was now without doubt that none before the Count had ever shown Richter the pleasures of stimulating that little gland within him. If his previous rapists had ever stimulated that place when fucking him, it had most probably been masked by pain. The Count had more certainty in his mind that Richter had taken little to no pleasure at all in any of his sexual encounters through the past year. He stroked it again, carefully watching the hunter to ensure he did not stimulate him beyond his current ability to stay conscious.

It was while Richter was still gasping for breath after the last firm rub that he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his straining cock. This time the hunter did scream as he pushed in carefully and deliberately prodded his prostate gland as hard as he could manage it.

Dracula held himself very still as he rested balls deep in the man beneath him, allowing Richter the moment to get used to the presence within him and savouring the snug heat that was wrapped around his aching cock. The hunter was impossibly tight, tighter than any virgin he had ever had in his centuries of existence. But what the Count relished the most was the expression on Richter's face. Equal parts agony and ecstasy, the hunter was trying to adjust to the throbbing organ within him and the unaccountable flare of lust that the aphrodisiac was firing in his blood. The Count smiled as he reached between them to run a finger tip over the slit of Richter's weeping cock, eliciting an answering whimper from the struggling man.

Tears escaped from Richter's eyes to flow down his face and into his hair as he fought to push away his arousal. The Count could tell that this was confusing and scaring the man. Shaft and his minions had taught the Belmont about pain and humiliation through rape, but the arousal that the vampire was dragging out of his body was beyond his ken to accept or understand. Clearly the poor man had not felt a single moment of arousal in his year long stay at the castle. Seeing the conflicting emotions in the man's face, the Count was confident of turning Richter's world upside down by the time he was finished with him. If Richter thought that he could calm himself and relax and expect the rape to continue per his past experience, he was about to be sorely corrected.

Once he felt the tight muscles surrounding him begin to relax, the Count slowly withdrew until only his cock head remained inside the tight passage then drove himself in hard and fast, startling another cry out of the hunter as he unerringly hit his prostate once more. He did it again and again, each time thrusting in harder and faster, drawing responsive scream after scream from the helpless man.

At last, Richter gave one last cry and erupted. Without testicles to add semen to his ejaculate, not as much shot out to coat his stomach, but there was no denying that the man had an orgasm. The Vampire stayed still, fighting back his own climax and resting his throbbing cock within the tight, shuddering passage.

At its end, Richter lay stunned beneath him making Dracula smirk. Yes, it may take longer to arouse, but a eunuch could still have pleasurable sex. Richter clearly did not know this. This was most probably his first orgasm since Shaft castrated him.

The Count forced Richter to meet his eyes by gripping his chin, giving the hunter no option but to face him. Ahh, he could read the despair, confusion and humiliation in his eyes. Dracula knew he was well on the path towards truly breaking the man now.

His hand moved to gather Richter's discharge from his stomach and gently paint his lips with it. "No more roses, Richter, this I promise you.

"You will have a butterfly." From the hunter's lips, his hand moved to possessively stroke Richter's inner left thigh. "Here, where I will see it whenever I prepare you to be taken; Where I can glance down as I fuck you and see it beside your own cock as it stands hard and dribbling with your need while I watch mine disappear within you."

His words seemed to wake the vampire hunter from his state of shock and the man recovered enough to glare venomously at him. Dracula could feel his lust peak to see this defiance and challenge thrown at his teeth, for behind it all, he could read the hunter's uncertainty too because of his reluctant response. Yes, it would indeed be enjoyable to break the Belmont this way, and so much more pleasant too.

"New tattoos will line your thighs for every act of defiance, my pet. Never question that." The Count stroked the flash of the man's thigh more firmly, his finger tracing a pattern of a butterfly on the skin with the ejaculate he had collected from Richter's stomach.

"But no one else will ever touch you again, Richter Belmont. From this moment on, you are mine." With that, the Count took possession of the hunter's lips, then started his hips rocking against the man's buttocks again to continue fucking the man.

Dracula could feel the Belmont's tears trickling down his cheeks to stain his own as he devoured the man's unresisting lips. He could tell that it would not be very long before he finally conquered the vampire hunter.

Breaking off the kiss, Dracula drew back so that he could grip Richter's hips and start fucking him earnest. Taking strokes that were long, slow and hard; determined as he was to force a second or even a third orgasm out of the confused and suffering man before he came himself. The Count laughed softly at the desperation Richter showed in trying to claw the vampire's hands from around his waist to arrest the unrelenting pace of his fucking. Try as he might, the hunter's writhing could not halt the arousal that Dracula was dragging out of his reluctant body.

"No! What-- are you doing to me?"

"Can you not tell, Richter? This is a claiming." The Count smiled viciously at his toy. "A claiming that your body is eager to respond to and embrace."

"No! You're lying!"

"Am I? And what says your body, Richter?" Dracula released his waist with one hand to grip the hunter's rigid cock.

Richter nearly howled as his body suddenly gave in to the stimulation and came again. Dracula relished the anguish that marked the hunter's face. Poor lamb, to not know or understand ones own body enough to identify what reactions he was guiltless of.

"I am unlike my minions, Richter." The vampire's hand brushed at the tears on his face. "Your body has already surrendered to me. It will not be long before you crave for my touch."

The hunter turned his face away from the count as he sobbed softly in his confusion for his body's betrayal. Dracula smiled as he continued to thrust into the limp body beneath him. He reflected with delight that this little project would certainly offer him some amusement on the side while he dealt with his son. It was, after all, no question that the Dhampir would return to try and defeat him again and attempt to rescue the imprisoned Belmont. It would make his victory over Alucard all the more sweet if he could show off his new pet before he finished off his son. Provided he managed to completely break and train the man before he defeated his son.

For now, the Count revelled in his dreams of domination over the last Belmont. The last in the long line of vampire hunters who had plagued him through the centuries; the latest one who had ever defied and defeated him, now to be his pet for the rest of his human life if he was generous.

He idly wondered what the generations of Belmonts before him would say of Richter, who he did not doubt would have a flight of butterflies adorning his inner thighs to go with the roses on his back, before he finally departed the land of the living. Or perhaps, he would give Richter the kiss of immortality and keep the hunter to serve him for all eternity.

But that was a decision for another day. In the now, Dracula took great pleasure in the man's expression of reluctant passion as he played with his body, steadfast in his efforts to wring a third orgasm from him and put another crack on his spirit before the night was through. The Count was determined that the last Belmont would not find death to escape him. Even if it were to take months or years, he would shatter Richter Belmont first.

~Owari~

  


Thanks for reading, firewolf


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